Trouble
by Molten-Ashes
Summary: Alpha Trion growled lowly, before continuing on his way with a deep frown muttering to himself, "This guard will be more trouble than he is worth!"


Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers!

Please R&R

(Yeah, I've been hoping for some Alpha Trion and Smokescreen bonding fluff for a while, but nothing seemed to pop up, so I had a bash at it. Possible/Probable character butchering ahoy! enjoy!)

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"I take it you are deliberately trying to annoy me Prowl." Alpha Trion rumbled lowly, crossing his arms with an unimpressed air over his chest plates, eyeing the infamous enforcer tactician that stood holding a younger mostly white mech by the arm, the newly minted Elite Guard candidate struggling in his superiors grip, muttering his angry displeasure. "I asked for a competent guard for the Vault."

"Smokescreen may be a bit green, but he makes up for it in blind determination." The black and white mech replied with his usual monotone lilt, actually jerking Smokescreen so that the young mech was momentarily disorientated and had to stop trying to pull out of the amber visored mech's grasp. "He will be a suitable guard."

Alpha Trion huffed atmosphere through his vents, turning his critical gaze to the sulking youngling, "He's too battle ready." He declared as he watched the blue decorated Praxian recruit scowl at him, "What's to say he won't run off to fight and leave the Vault unguarded?"

"With all due respect, Alpha Trion." Prowl rumbled with a dark edge, turning his bright visor to the youngling beside him, "I will personally see to it he stays put."

"But brother!" Smokescreen implored almost whining like a child not getting his way, going back to half-sparked jerks of his wrist against the Officer's titanium grip. "You're letting Bluestreak go on your missions!"

"And if Bluestreak wasn't the best sniper we had left, he'd be sulking here right along with you!" Prowl snapped back, making Alpha Trion flare his optics in minute surprise as the infamous 'drone' lost his patience. "I apologise Alpha Trion. But this is all we have to spare, regardless of how inexperienced he is."

Sighing with a despairing huff, the ancient Archivist nodded his consent, watching with admittedly great amusement as the newly minted Elite Guard youngling glowered at him, promising hell. "Very well, Prowl, I hold you responsible if anything gets broken."

With a precise nod, Prowl relinquished his hold on Smokescreen's wrist, the younger mech rubbing mildly at the joint as energon returned to his fingers, hunching his shoulders moodily as the doorwings twitched in distaste, making Alpha Trion chuckle.

"I'll be back in a decaorn to check up on how he is doing." The black and white enforcer stated blandly, patting his little brother on his shoulder plating, who leaned into the touch with a grudging chirr. "Be good." Prowl warned the blue and white Praxian, that spluttered protests in response. "With your leave Alpha Trion." The tactician saluted as if he were hailing a Prime, before turning on his heel strut and leaving the Vault of Iacon, ascending the stairs back up into the records hall with one last warning look thrown over his shoulder and doorwing at Smokescreen.

"So, I guess it is just you and me then old mech." Smokescreen grumbled, planting his servos on his hips, creating what the young mech obviously thought was a subtle defensive posture.

"Indeed." Alpha Trion replied, rolling his optics as he beckoned his new 'bodyguard' to follow him deeper into the Vault of Iacon.

The youngling trotted behind him, optics roaming the deceptively high ceilings, carved with images of stories long lost to time, lit by electric lamps, an old design that had been used millennia ago. Smokescreen paused curiously at various pedestals, holding the most precious of Iacon's relics, spinning slowly in a mild gravity field, his optics flaring at the modern looking Phase Shifter, circling the column twice in fascination.

"Are you quite finished?" Alpha Trion rumbled, "This isn't a tour."

"Then how will I find my way about if your don't show me where to go?" the young bot snapped back, fluffing out his armour in a show of hot-helmed temper.

"Download the map from one of the data-base computers up in the Record Hall." The Archivist growled lowly, before continuing on his way with a deep frown muttering to himself, "This guard will be more trouble than he is worth!"

_**===Two Orns Later=== **_

He was brought out of his usual cataloguing trance by a loud eerie keening filtering through the halls of the Vault. Frowning, he looked up from the data-file he was in the middle of sorting and examined the dimly lit room about him, finding no intruders as the keen rose again in a more desperate pitch.

Growling, Alpha Trion rose from the desk, scanning ahead of him as he left the splashes of light the lamps provided, slipping into the darkness in the direction of the cries. If it was Smokescreen playing a prank again, the young mech was going to get the thump of his life in the form of Alpha Trion's fist, if it wasn't, well, nobody messed with one of the First Thirteen.

Prowling towards the impromptu living quarters he had given the young upstart, he burst into the alcove preparing the scolding speech of the centi-vorn , only to find Smokescreen curled up on his side, turned into the wall, the doorwings shaking softly as another soft mournful keen escaped the recharging mech's vocaliser.

Startled, the ancient mech tilted his helm in mild confusion at the soft mournful clicking emitting from the 'Body Guard'. "I forget how young and inexperienced you are." He muttered with a sigh, anger dying in his spark as Smokescreen shifted, curling tighter to himself, the guard subconsciously unnerved by being a strange recharging place without any family member's to comfort him.

Pausing with indecision, the Archivist leaned forward and gently placed a servo on the mech's shoulder plating, almost jumping out of his own armour when Smokescreen's servo reached up and hugged it close, rolling so that Alpha Trion was almost tugged off his pedes.

"Well it doesn't look like I'm getting that filing done." The record keeper muttered with a fake sourness, as Smokescreen's keens turned to hiccupping chirrs. "I suppose I'll just make the most of it." He rumbled to himself quietly, his arm held at an awkward angle in the smaller mech's grasp that tightened considerably when he tried to pull away.

"I knew it." He chuckled, almost fondly, gazing on the recharging mech, contemplating the usually bouncy nature of the Elite Guard mech. "You _are_ much more trouble than you're worth."

_**===Decaorn Later=== **_

"I trust his work is satisfactory?" Prowl asked lowly as he watched Alpha Trion write down a few notes on his data-pad.

"Most satisfactory in fact." The ancient mech nodded, gesturing for the enforcer to watch with his bizarre looking quill as Smokescreen fiddled with the Phase Shifter, his optics alight with bright delight as he stuck his servo through a support column. "He works hard, then I let him play with some of the aritfacts. We've worked past the bumpy start we had."

"After you've taught him how they work I hope." The amber visored mech muttered, his armour shivering as Smokescreen walked right through the column. "If that is all Alpha Trion, I must make my good-byes."

"You are leaving Cybertron?" the Archivist asked in surprise, turning his own gaze to Smokescreen who was in the process of removing the Phase Shifter on his wrist plating after demonstrating the powers of the artefact for his elder sibling, bouncing out the room with glee.

"Ultra Magnus will take over, he is adamant that there is still energon _somewhere_." Prowl sighed, rolling his optics behind his visor, "Beta Team will be leaving next cycle. Team Prime, as you already know, have left."

"I trust you will want your brother back?" Alpha Trion asked, raising an optic ridge, "If I may be forward, I've grown rather fond of him in the last decaorn. He rather lightens up the place."

"Smokescreen was never signed up for my team." Prowl admitted, grinding his denta in clear frustration, the 'despite me pulling strings' was silent but noticeable. "I came to extract a promise."

"Oh?" the ancient one prodded, curiously, it had been a while since anybody had tried that.

"I want you to keep him... safe," The black and white mech declared, the visor flipping up, golden optics boring deeply into Alpha Trion's dark blue. "I'll be damned to the Pit if I lose more of my family."

"An admirable quality that burns in your spark, Prowl, but if it will ease the processor, I promise," Alpha Trion smiled serenely as Smokescreen trotted back into the room having returned the Phase Shifter to its pedestal in the Vault, swerving around his brother with a bright grin to take up his now usual spot just behind the Archivist to the left. "Besides, it will be fine," he continued much to the black and white enforcer's surprise as he reached back and patted Smokescreen on the shoulder plating, "He's not as much trouble as I thought he was."


End file.
